Definitions of Normal

By DemonicLucario

Disclaimer: See first chapter

[ 3 ]

"But- how are you here? Y-you were dead!"

His voice was slightly shaky, probably from surprise. I couldn't answer him, as I still couldn't move enough, so it was all I could do to shake my head a tiny amount. Apparently he caught it though. "You can't speak?". I gave him another small shake. "Can you move at all?". Another shake. "Alright" he stated, and leaned down towards me. He took off the breathing mask, and he began to remove things from my fur, which stung slightly when he took them out. "Diodes" he explained, holding one in front of my eyes. It was a tiny needle, attached to a wire. It was a few minutes before he was done. I vaguely noticed the other mercenaries had come into the room at some point. They were saying something, but I was fading in and out and I didn't catch what it was. Rastann was lifting me, I realized. The impression of movement, of being carried, was the last thing I remembered before I truly fell asleep.

When I awoke the first impression that I had was warmth. When I opened my eyes I discovered that I was ensconced in a thick blanket. It was nice, I thought, to have dry, clean fur. I was in an unfamiliar bedroom. I realized that i could move, and sat up. It took more effort than I care to admit. Likewise, it took a grand mustering of my force to slowly shuffle myself off of the bed. I looked over myself and noticed that i had been dressed, though the clothes were unfamiliar.I slowly moved across the room to the window, which was covered. I moved the blinds apart. It was day, and the bright sunlight sparkled off the cityscape. 'At least I'm on mars' I thought. I let the blinds fall back into place, and turned to survey the room. There was a clock on the nightstand, it read 07:39. The room's door opened. I looked over, and Rastann was standing there, holding a tray with food on it. "You're awake." he said. "Can you speak?" I hadn't tried yet. "Morning" I said. It came out raspy, and very quiet, but he heard me. "Good morning." he replied. "I brought some food, are you hungry?" I was. I told him as much. "Alright then." he set the tray on the small table in the corner. "There's a tea there as well, I recommend that you drink it, it will help with your throat." I nodded. "Good." he paused. "After you're done, please come to the kitchen, we have a lot to talk about." "ok" I replied.

The food turned out to be a stew, rather inappropriate for breakfast, but it was good. The tea, to my surprise, wasn't bad, and it helped the dryness in my throat rather nicely. As instructed, I made my way to the kitchen, bringing the leftover dishes with me. It wasn't far, and I had regained some strength from the hearty meal, but it was still slow-going. Rastann was sitting at a table when I came in, drinking what smelled like coffee and reading something on his toggle. "Was the food alright?" he asked. "It was good." I replied, my voice stronger and less grating than before. "Thank you." "No problem." he said. He stood up and walked over to me. "Here, hand me those.", he said, referring to the dishes in my hands. I handed them over, and he took them to the sink. He pointed to one of the chairs around the table. "Please sit" he said. I sat. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked. "Before the tank, or -?" I fished. "Yes, before the tank." "It was…" I hesitated. "The mission". "The bust?" he asked. He seemed tense. "Yes", I replied. "Damn. So you remember…" he faded off. "Dying?" I said. He flinched slightly. "Not exactly, but i must have. I don't know how long I was in that tank, but it was long enough to think about what happened". I explained. "Four months" he said. "Sorry, what?" "Four months" he repeated. "You were in the tank for four months". "I… died four months ago?" I asked, for clarification. "No" he answered, "you died five months ago. The scientists running the lab put you in that tank after you supposedly appeared out of thin air. We got all this from their records". I didn't know exactly how to respond to that. He sat down. "I'm sorry" he blurted out. "For what?" I asked. "For not stopping you. I could have stopped you from going up there, but-" I cut him off: "don't be sorry. I was shitfaced on painkillers, shock and anger, there was nothing you could have done, nothing." He seemed surprised. "Do you really believe that?" he said. "Yes." I replied. And I did. I changed the topic: "Do you know who the scientists were?" "They worked for TTI" he answered. I was confused "TTI, really? I didn't think they were the types." I said. Transcendent Technology Incorporated made a lot of things, living armor, Cuil-based implants, but, as far as I knew, were fairly, well, fair. "I don't know what exactly you've heard about TTI" Rastann said, "but they run way deeper than anyone realizes." he looked almost sick. "The shit they do… it's horrible." he paused. "They tried to make a drug that gave them complete control over someone's mind". He said. "We stopped them, but that's the kind of shit they do." "Shit" I stated. "By 'we' you mean your group?" "Yeah" he said. "We've gained a few members, and we're doing what we can to stop TTI from bringing whatever plan they have to its end". "Do you know what that plan is?" I asked. "Not entirely." he answered. "We've picked up bits and pieces of it from various jobs, but we don't have enough to know what it is yet".

I didn't know exactly how to respond to that, so I changed the subject again: "Thank you for the clothes". There was the unspoken "and washing me" that was conveyed by that as well. "It was no trouble" he said, "I couldn't just leave you soaking wet and unconscious, after all". "Well, thanks all the same" I said. I stood up. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Back to the IRPF" I said. The plan was simple in my mind, go back to the IRPF, report what I know, get someone to do something about it. It was also immediately derailed. "You can't" he said. I turned. "Why not?" "Because you died." he said. "And it's not even that" he continued, "when you were killed, the sniper tried to run to get away. He crushed your head with his boot- it shouldn't have been possible to bring you back from the dead!" he was shouting now. He stopped. When he spoke again, it was quiet. "Sorry, but it's just that-". "What?" I asked. "I can't think of any reason that you're alive". He said. "It was the shock of my life seeing you there when I emptied the tank. I was so guilty- I had nightmares about that mission for months, and then, there you were, sitting on the bottom of that tank, alive, it just-" he cut off. "Lets not think about that" I said. "Ok, so I can't go back to the IRPF, so what do I do now?" I had honestly zero Ideas. "Well" he said.

"You could join up with us…"